Feeling Wanted
by Katea-Nui
Summary: What does it take for two unlikely mechs to be happy?  A little explosion maybe?  And the ability to trust just that much more.
1. Feeling Wanted T

**Hey all! So, this is the second arc of the Feeling Series done through RP with Darkeyes 17! Big round of applause for her! She's GREAT and alot of fun to RP with! So all you first time readers know, the First arc with Twins/Ratchet is completed and the three oneshots can be found on her profile ^^ Check them out for these to make sense!**

**Wow can't believe this turned out so long.**

**Read and review please!**

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><p><strong>Feeling Wanted<strong>

"There!" Wheeljack whooped, pulling away his tools with gusto as he presented the new invention to a recently recovered Ratchet. Sideswipe was entertaining the triplet sparklings today, allowing Ratchet to get _some_work done. And the first order of business had been to drag his friend to refuel. He had just walked in the door to suddenly have a bouncing and enthusiastic inventor in his faceplates and holding some sort of... ball like thing. He eyed it warily.

"That thing isn't going to explode in my face is it?"

Wheeljack snorted, but his optics twinkled with excitement. "Not this time, Ratch!" He tossed it in the air as if to prove it. "This is 99.9% guaranteed to only explode when it come into contact with soil."

"So the 0.1% that it _will_explode before coming into contact with organic material pretty much guarantees that I will rebuilding your sorry chassis in the next cycle or so."

The CME frowned at that. "C'mon Ratchet. I'm not that bad! I just get unlucky alot."

"And grin all the while." His friend sighed, still eyeing the bouncing bomb in his friend's servos. "Could you please put that down?"

Wheeljack sighed and placed it down. "You're no fun," the inventor whined playfully, helm flanges lighting a lighter blue.

"My bondmates are having enough fun that I don't need to be," Ratchet retorted, although he smirked at his oldest friend.

The Lancia chuckled and asked, "So how are the triplets? Getting on well with each other and your hellions?"

A softer smile came over Ratchet's face as he thought on the two little mechs and the femme he now had. "They are already causing trouble. A few days ago they found Sunny's pot of blue paint and decided to finger paint all over their father's chassis. Sunny wasn't happy at first, but he praised Brightspark because he said she's a painter already. Although if you ask me, her finger paintings weren't too much different from Jumpstart's or Speedlight's. And for some odd reason, they really like Prowl. They keep escaping and hiding in his office. It's fascinating, really, to see them develop into their own individual selves. Speedlight's the chattiest. Beeps and clicks far more than the younger ones," Ratchet said, warmth in his tone as he spoke of his offspring.

Wheeljack smiled right along with his friend, although his smile had a much more subdued edge to it. He was thankful that the blastmask prevented Ratchet from seeing that. "And Jumpstart? He still having that static-fuzz problem when he chirps?"

"Not so much anymore, no. Sideswipe just says it proved that we chose the right name." Ratchet shrugged. "Now I need to take care of a bigger sparkling at the moment." He pinched one of Wheeljack's vocal indicators between his forefinger and thumb, the said appendage lighting an indignant bright green, before proceeding to drag his friend forcefully from his lab. "You forgot to refuel. In two days."

Wheeljack stumbled along behind him, tugging at Ratchet's digits to get him to let go. He didn't much appreciate being dragged around by such sensitive equipment. "Ow! Slaggit all, Ratch, _leggo_!"

"No way. I'll pull rank and even get Prime to sign an order for me to sit on you while I get the energon down to your tanks. It's either that or I feed you like a sparkling," Ratchet said flatly, ignoring the protesting engineer's struggles.

"Pit Ratch, don't use your carrier instincts on me!" Wheeljack whined, trying to get the medic to loosen his grip but found the task futile.

"I'll do-" Ratchet began to retort, but was cut off by a comm. from his loyal aprentice, First Aid.

:: _Hey Ratchet, Cliffjumper got blasted by Sunstreaker while they were on patrol. I need you here, Cliffjumper's going nuts_! ::

:: _What happened? _:: the CMO growled over the link. Why would Sunstreaker...

:: _Apparently Cliffjumper called your triplet's incest concieved little pit-spawns ._:: First Aid replied in a small voice.

Silence over the comm. lines.

And then.

"WHAT! That's it, that little red fragger is mine!" yelled Ratchet, both aloud and over the comm link, making Wheeljack and First Aid wince. Glancing around hurridly and spotting the only other mech in the hallway, he dragged the mostly gray mech over to Wheeljack and said lowly, "Get Wheeljack a ration of energon, before I explode with anger."

Bluestreak nodded hurridly, not wanting the irate Ratchet on his case.

With a firm nod, the medic left, spewing a lucrative blend of curses on his way to the medbay.

Wheeljack stared after his friend until his backplates turned the corner and he was gone, gingerly rubbing at the sensitive indicator. He sighed audibly when he caught Bluestreak's absolutely confounded look the slightly taller mech was directing at him. "Sorry 'bout that Blue. You don't have to do anything. Ratchet's being a grump..."

Bluestreak seemed to consider it for a moment before he smiled brightly. "Not at all, 'Jack! I was just headed taht way myself! They're playing a new movie today. Something about two kids whose parents are spies and they have to save them from this weird show guy who makes toys as well."

Wheeljack chuckled, lights going an amused pink. "I think the movies called 'Spy Kids', Blue. I heard about that. Come on then!" He smacked Bluestreak's shoulder playfully. "Better get moving. I don't want to get you into trouble with the Hatchet."

They turned to go their own way down the hall, Wheeljack listening to the gunner's near constant stream of chatter about completely non-related things. While most mechs found it irritating or exasperating, the engineer had always found it comforting to some degree. If the gunner was chatting and gesturing, it meant he was happy. And damn did it just twist his spark when the kid wasn't.

After all, most, if not all, of the mechs on the Ark knew that the reason behind the young gunner's chatter was trauma from the destruction of his hometown, Praxus.

So Wheeljack listened attentively, occassionally inputting his own opinion or chuckling at a random piece of gossip.

They reached the rec-room, the movie already playing and were mechs chattering or sipping from their own cubes of energon as they watched the action unfold on the screen. There was a light, happy atmosphere in the room, and it made Bluestreak grin and talk even more as he and Wheeljack walked to the dispenser. Taking a cube for Wheeljack, and then himself, Bluestreak handed it over, an unnoticeable blush on his faceplates as the engineer's fingertips brushed with his own as the cube was taken.

Thankfully, Wheeljack didn't seem to notice. He was happily drinking his cube, glad that he had perked up, and was watching the movie. His optics and helm fins gleamed as he saw the nifty little gadgets that the children on the screen were using, and his processor immediately began to churn with ideas.

"Oh wow, the movie has a lot of special effects," Bluestreak wondered aloud.

"Hmmm..." Wheeljack hummed thoughtfully, taking his own cube and drinking through a mall gap he had opened in his mask. He still didn't feel all too comfortable with showing his faceplates.

He rubbed at the side of his helm in thought. Far from popular belief, the engineer was far from ugly or scarred. Well, he had a small scar running across his cheek that he had never bothered to get fixed, but really, it wasn't horribly disfiguring or anything. Wheeljack had... a past. Like any other mech. Although he would be the first to point put the the reason for the mask itself was null and void now.

"... and then, if you really think about it, is it really possible for humans to just stop like that in mid air on jetpacks like that?" Bluestreak was saying, his optics intent on the very scene he was asking about.

"Oh will you just WATCH it!" Someone groaned. It sounded suspiciously like Huffer and the glare that Bumblebee shot to his left proved it to the inventor.

Bluestreak fell silent, his doorwings sticking out straight as he almost noticeably shrank in on himself. Wheeljack frowned, shot his own glare in the minibot's direction and closed up his mask completely before nudging the downcast Bluestreak. "Come on." He said quietly. "We can talk about it in my lab. I'm kinda curious about it too."

The light that lit up the gunner's optics brought a small smile to Wheeljack's faceplates and he stood, depositing his still half full cube into his subspace.

As they walked, Wheeljack found himself grinning as he remembered his invention he had been trying to show Ratchet earlier. Maybe he could show Bluestreak and get him to comment on it. It may also take the gunner's mind off...whatever he was thinking of. All the CME knew was that Bluestreak was now quiet, not talking at all, even though his optics were lit up in a happy glow. The signals clashed and were slightly confusing, making Wheeljack a little wary.

Stepping into the lab, the mostly white mech mentioned for Bluestreak to follow him, scooping up the ball-bomb from his workbench and showing it off proudly.

"Speaking of spies, I made this new bomb. See, the thing is we fight outside a lot, but we don't exactly want to blow ourselves up just in case one of our bombs or grenades slip out of sub-space and contact on us before we get a change to use them. So I had an idea. While we hold them, we are safe, but as soon as this metal," he explained, tapping the silver metal encasing the bomb, "hits any sort of soil, then it explodes. So it means I'm safe in the lab with these, so Ratchet is really happy."

Bluestreak's doorwings fluttered a little. The motion caught Wheeljack's optics. What did fluttering mean again?

"Can I hold it?" Bluestreak asked quietly, reaching out cautiously.

Wheeljack just grinned and handed it over. "No problem. It's all been tested. Just don't throw it on any dirt."

Bluestreak laughed as he turned the orb in his hands, noting the different seams and lights decorating the bomb. "These will be useful."

Wheeljack shrugged. "Can't really say, though I'm hoping they will be..." When Bluestreak gave him a questioning look he flashed his indicators cheerfully. "I have no idea how big the actual boom will be..."

Bluestreak smiled, "I'm sure it will be your usual Wheeljack special."

They both chuckled at that, and the younger mech held it and turned it over one last time before reaching out for Wheeljack to take it back. Just as his fingers made to grab the invention, Bluestreak got nervous and accidentally let it go too early. It slipped through Wheeljack's fingers and dropped towards the ground. Both mechs gasped, and made to dive away from the ball like bomb, but were stopped.

Nothing had happened.

"Phew, that was close," muttered Wheeljack.

"Y-yeah," stuttered Bluestreak. He knew it could only be triggered by dirt, but even then there had been no guarantee of it not exploding.

Wheeljack made to get up, but his pede hit the bomb and sent it flying through the air...right at the test patch of dirt in the back of the lab.

"Aw slag!" yelled Wheeljack scrabbling to get up. He could see the bomb dipping lower, lower, it was going to his the dirt and explode!

With speed seen only on the battle field, Bluestreak dove, getting a face full of dirt in return for their lives. He's managed to catch the bomb merely a foot above the dirt. After a few tense moments, both released intakes of relief. That had been a close and while Wheeljack was used to blowing HIMSELF up, it was an entirely different thing to have Bluestreak in here with him if something went boom. The older mech wasn't sure if he could live with the guilt.

"Nice catch Blue."

Bluestreak didn't answer, nor had he moved from the his spot in front of the dirt patch. In fact, he was frowning at it, as if he's suddenly found the reason for all of his problems. "'Jack... Why is this in here...?"

Wheeljack wanted to facepalm for his stupidity. With a sigh, he explained, "I was testing the metal compound around the bomb to see how fast it dissipates when soil touches it. It was safe, because this was when the metal was alone and not around the bomb. Good thing you caught it. The metal takes only 0.003 seconds to disappear on contact. So, yeah, thanks."

With a squeak of alarm, Bluestreak yanked the bomb out of range from the organic compounds and scrambled away from it. Only that long and then he and Wheeljack may have been nothing more than piles of melted scrap. And if the gunner _hadn't_been there... Bluestreak shuddered to think of what would have happened.

"Does Ratchet know you were testing this in here?"

Wheeljack scratched at his mask nervously, vocal indicators glowing dimly. "Uh... Not really."

Bluestreak frowned, placing the bomb on a clean, organic free workbench and scolded gently, "You should have or else he would have gone nuts trying to fix you if something did go wrong and all, and you know how Ratchet likes to-"

Holding up a hand, Wheeljack said reassuringly, "It's fine. You don't really need to worry Blue."

"Well, the only reason I worry is because I love you."

Wheeljack jerked his helm up at that statement to see Bluestreak standing, doorwings flared out and rigid behind him, hands clapped over his mouth and baby blue optics wide in fear. They stared at each other in shock for a few moments, before the younger gunner yelped, "Pretend I didn't say that, I didn't say it, I didn't, even if I meant it I-...oh, I'm sorry, I have to go, just forget what I said."

"Blue-" Wheeljack called out, but Bluestreak pushed past him, and ran out of the lab, leaving a shell-shocked Wheeljack behind him.

* * *

><p>This was getting ridiculous. Wheeljack could understand the embarrassment. Pit, he could understand the first week of<p>

hiding. Bluestreak could call it what he liked, but Wheeljack was pretty sure that three weeks was pushing it. Frag, he'd spent the last week and a half just trying to pin down the gunner to tell him that they needed to talk about this! Not to mention he'd been whacked upside the helm by an irritated Ratchet more than he had ever remembered in his entire _lifecycle_!

He could clearly remember standing in his lab, completely stunned, his processor working fast as it went through thought after thought, idea after idea before he's come to the conclusion that maybe he should be running _after_ the gunner. By then it had been too late, but he's returned to his quarters to stare at his ceiling from his berth, thinking. And the conclusion he'd come to was that he'd been perhaps harboring his own feelings for the enthusiastic young datsun. Which had been a shock to him in the realization completely.

How could he not have noticed? He had always treated the young gunner differently to all the rest. Always listened to him, no matter what, even if he was chattering about the most inane things, always brought Bluestreak to his lab whenever there was a new invention that had not blown up yet, always tried to protect the youngest Praxian from any hurtful remarks or comments from any of the less delicate of the Ark crew, and was always there to greet Bluestreak if he was hurt in battle and in the medbay.

Pit, how had he not noticed that Bluestreak treated _**him**_differently?

Bluestreak always smiled for him. Bluestreak was one of his most frequent visitors in his lab, usually there with a telling about some event or bringing him some energon. He usually made him laugh, was usually the one to make sure the twins didn't prank his lab. Bluestreak was always the one to visit him in the medbay after a catastrophic explosion (again and again).

"Aw, slaggit," he cursed softly.

And now he felt like it was all too messed up. How could he even sort this out when Bluestreak was utilizing the little espionage skills Jazz had instilled in him and could not be found where he wanted him.

Wheeljack sighed. Not to mention the warning from Prowl to talk to Bluestreak before he called them both to his office and forced them to talk.

Which would be all colors of awkward. Yeah. He really didn't want to go there. All of which were reasons he was now sitting in Ratchet and the Twins' quarters and venting.

"I keep telling you to stop thinking about it so much." Ratchet grumped, adjusting Speedlight on his hip as the inquisitive sparkling tried to reach for his father's paints which were on the desk. Brightspark was happily watching a holovid on a handheld datapad while Jumpstart had made himself comfortable on the inventor's lap. The quiet sparklet was currently entranced with Wheeljack's helm fins which the engineer was lighting up to amuse him.

"Not that easy, Ratch..." Wheeljack sighed. "I really don't know what to do. He may not even be interested anymore..."

Ratchet sighed, "Honestly, just blow yourself up."

"But...Ratchet...huh?" Wheeljack said unintelligibly. His helm fins didn't light for a few moments, and Jumpstart made a few beeps and warbles in annoyance. Gently rubbing the little white chevron on the black helm and lighting his fins up again, Wheeljack looked at his friend in bewilderment.

"You haven't had one incident in the three weeks. You said yourself that Bluestreak worries about you. Just make something accidentally go wrong, I'll yell at you, fix you, Bluestreak can't resist it and will come to the medbay, and when he gets close enough, you kiss him senseless and everything falls into place. If he's interested, he'll let you know, and if not, same thing. Simple," the medic said, distracting Speedlight from Sunstreaker's paints with a Lamborghini plushie in red. The golden sparkling cooed and made 'grabby hands' at it happily.

Wheeljack's fins turned a light peach color as his faceplates heated in a blush. "Ratch, no way would I have the courage to do that. And Bluestreak needs a bit more...delicate handling. That'd probably make him run again."

Ratchet snorted.

Getting slightly indignant, Wheeljack said pointedly, "Not everyone can sort out each others problems as quick as you and the twins do, even if the way you guys solve things is...ah...loud."

Ratchet merely turned a calculating optic on Wheeljack. "'Jack. don'e tell me you're still - "

"Don't even go there Ratchet." Wheeljack cut him off quickly. Ignoring the frown on his friend's faceplates, he scrubbed at his own. Really, Ratchet and Prime were probably the only ones he felt truly comfortable dropping his mask around.

"Wheeljack." Ratchet growled, although there was definitely a sympathetic undertone in the name. "Not all mechs are like -"

"We are NOT talking about this." Wheeljack interrupted firmly, flashing his fins in slight warning. He really, _really_didn't want to go there.

"Fine. But frag it all 'Jack! You need to let it go at some point in your lifecycle!"

The inventor merely shrugged, helping the sparkling in his lap to stand as Jumpstart reached for the glowing objects on his 'uncle's' helm. Ratchet sighed.

"At least promise me you won't give up." The medic said as he placed his eldest next to his sister on the couch.

With a small growl, as not to scare Jumpstart, the Lancia sighed, "Fine. I won't. But it doesn't help that Blue's harder to find than Mirage with his electro disrupter on!"

"Jack, you should-"

::Decepticons are on approach! All availiable units to their positions!::

Red Alert's urgent comm. echoed throughout the Ark, causing Ratchet and Wheeljack to look at each other in horror.

"Why are they attacking now? They haven't attacked us directly in so long," Wheeljack said, gently bouncing Jumpstart as the little red and black mechlet whined a little and let out a little warble as an alarm began to ring.

Ratchet's faceplates seemed to pale and he whispered, "My sparklings. What if...what if they've come for my sparklings?"

"Then you need to stay here and get one of the twins to come here. If that IS what the Cons want, they are going to expect you to be in the medbay and will head there first. Aid will be able to handle anything, I'm sure," the engineer said, keeping his tone even. The triplets were remarkably perceptive, and could detect the tone in a voice well enough to understand. Right now, Brightspark had curled up to Speedlight, who laid a proective hand on her helm fins, reassuring his white plated sister. Jumpstart was also looking uncertain, turning from his Uncle to reach for his carrier.

Picking up the quietest sparkling, Ratchet whispered, "As much as I don't like it, you're right. Go out there and see what's happening for me will you?"

Wheeljack smiled reassuringly at his friend before his mask snapped back into place. He left the room and took off at a run through the halls, headed for the entrance of the ARK and passing Sunstreaker on the way. Sideswipe was standing rigid just inside the ARK, staring after his brother's retreating back, looking for all the world as if he wanted to just take off at a run too. Wheeljack didn't blame him. His family was in there after all.

"C'mon kid. I need you to focus!" The inventor said calmly, shoving one of his organic-activated bombs into the startled Twin's hand. "Your brother will keep them safe."

Sideswipe's hand tightened on the device and the absolute surety that flashed in his optics was Wheeljack's answer before the red hellion spoke aloud, tone just as confident. "I know."

"Well then! Let's give these creeps and aft whooping they won't be in a hurry to toss aside!"

Sideswipe's grin was menacing and fiendish at the CME's comment and he chuckled, "You're right 'Jack, on Prowl's signal, let's unleash hell."

Unsubspacing a few more of the organic-activated bombs, helm fins lighting a bright blue, Wheeljack nodded and said, "Hope that throwing arm's as good as your bondmate's." Sideswipe chuckled again but didn't reply, both of them striding out to where Optimus and his officers were conferring as they readied their weapons and their resolve. In plain view of the front line was a large dust cloud, kicked up by the 'groundpounder' Decepticons, while in the sky dots became discernable as particular Decepticons.

"Autobots, on my signal!" called Optimus.

Wheeljack was momentarily distracted and looked up to see Bluestreak and Mirage on top of the Ark, guns pointed at the oncoming enemy. Bluestreak looked down for a moment, his optics meeting Wheeljack's. Something unreadable went through those young, haunted optics before they drew away.

"NOW!" shouted the Autobot Leader, running forward to meet Megatron, who flew down and launched himself at the red and blue mech.

With a mighty throw, Wheeljack launched the first of his bombs at the approaching Stunticons.

The battle raged around him, his bomb exploding almost like a sign of the struggle that erupted in the span a few kliks. Wheeljack was carrying a bomb in one servo and his gun in the other, shooting and dodging as he ran through tangled bodies that collided against one another in a continuous fight for dominance. The inventor was forced to shoot blindly for a few moments, finding himself pinned behind upturned stone and boulders by heavy fire. Heavy _**Seeker**_ fire. For whatever reason, the Coneheads were feeling like Wheeljack hunting today. And the problem with his invention? it just wasn't too effective against flying frames. He _really_should think of some of these things before hand...

Well, nothing he could do about it now. So he continued to fire, lobbing the bomb towards the thickest area of his enemies that he could find from his pinned down position before pulling his last bomb from subspace. But luck had finally run dry with him, it would seem. Just as he was about to launch the small orb at the Constructicons to prevent them from forming Devastator, laserfire hit his shoulder and blinding pain was all he recognized for an agonizing moment.

And his grip on his device failed, sending it in a straight drop... at his feet.

"Ah, fra-"

_**BOOM!**_

Searing agony ripped through his chassis as he was blown backwards, impacting the wall of the volcano. His optics glitched out for a moment before he came to. And promptly wished he could slip into unconsciousness. Like _**NOW**_, thankyoupleasePrimus!

Getting around the pain was difficult, but he did it, if only out of need to assess his injuries. His entire left side was pretty much slagged, his leg gone and his arm from the elbow down embedded in the wall by his head. One helm fin was non existent, the other cracked and flickering wildly. His blast mask was the only thing that seemed intact if only blackened.

He hadn't even gotten through HALF the damage before a shadow fell over him and he was staring into the crimson optics of a Combaticon. Brawl, if he remembered correctly.

He was officially slagged.

A low, evil chuckle rumbled out of the Combaticon's vocaliser as he purred, "Oooh, I'ma gonna have some fun with you. What should I do first, hmm? Should I interface with you? No, not classy...I think...I'll have one of yur pretty little flicker-lights."

'Flicker lights? Oh, my helm fin,' Wheeljack thought dazedly, trying to scramble away in pain but only succeeding in more energon pouring out of his melted and slagged chassis.

A hand was reaching for him, reaching for his fin, grasping it, pulling hard.

"_**NO**_!"

The hand was gone.

And the clangs and bangs of a fist pounding into another bot's metal hide were heard. Although it was excruciating, Wheelajck turned his helm to the sidesaw his unexpected saviour on top of the Decepticon's body and rapidly punching with both fists, energon and plating flying everywhere.

The doorwings made the identity unmistakable.

Bluestreak.

"Don't you ever touch him again!" Bluestreak yelled.

The Combaticon couldn't very well answer, seeing as the gunner had practically beaten him into unconsciousness. And Bluestreak just sat there, looking at the energon covered mess he had created, his whole body trembling in shock. Wheeljack's spark broke in two, seeing the absolute look of being lost on the Datsun's faceplates. He reached his only functional arm to him, wanting to comfort, unable to reach and exploding pain vibrating through his entire chassis.

"Blue..." His voice was barely a static filled whisper, but in the dying sounds of battle it seemed to snap Bluestreak to awareness and the gunner's helm snapped his way. In mere kliks, Bluestreak had scrabbled over to kneel beside the rapidly deteriorating engineer. he grabbed the outstretched servo, cradling it gently and comming for help.

::First Aid or Ratchet, if you can, please come to my position, we are near the west wall of the volcano, and Wheeljack's hurt real bad and he needs attention or he might go into stasis lock and I don't know what to do so please help!:: Bluestreak babbled hurriedly over the comm. lines, unknowingly stroking across Wheeljack's hand. Wheeljack wished he could tell Bluestreak how good it felt, but coughed instead, distracting the gunner from pleading for aid even more.

"Oh Jack I saw the explosion and I saw Brawl come up and I had to abandon my post because..."

"Blue...you...urk...saved my life a-*fzzt*gain, so t-thanks," Wheeljack choked out, using what strength he had to squeeze the grey Datsun's hand.

Bluestreak gave him a small smile.

Wheeljack was reminded once again by how Bluestreak ALWAYS smiled for him. The noises of the battlefield ebbed away, and all of his focus was on the younger mech and he whispered, "I wanted...to talk to *fzzt* you...after you ran out." Although his vocaliser was fritzing a little, he found it a bit easier to talk now. "I wasn't gonna...judge you or anything-g for nnnh, it. But ya n-never gave me the chance."

Bluestreak felt his faceplates heat. He knew he had been avoiding Wheeljack, and he knew that the engineer had wanted to talk. But he had been too scared of rejection, of being told he was just a silly young mech for crushing on someone with such an age gap between them. Upon looking at the injured mech before him, Bluestreak still couldn't see the age in him. In the frame and the maturity, perhaps, but Wheeljack had such youth in his actions and curiosity in his ideas that it reminded Bluestreak of himself at times.

"I'm sorry Jack, but I was a little...uhh..."

"Afraid of being rejected...?" The injured engineer supplied softly.

"Yeah..." Bluestreak mumbled, staring intently at their hands intertwined.

Wheeljack tried to move his arm to stroke at Bluestreak's face, wanting to reassure. Instead, pain crackled from the effort and a whine left his throat before he could stop it. Bluestreak's gaze snapped back to his face, hesitation bleeding into worry and fear.

"Oh Primus!'Jack! Shut down, you need to shut down!" the gunner cried, at the same time throwing open another frantic comm link. "_**RATCHET**_!"

The last thing Wheeljack saw before he lost consciousness was Bluestreak's fear filled face and then Ratchet's business like one. And then the darkness claimed him.

* * *

><p>Opening his optics, Wheeljack found himself starting at that familiar crack in the ceiling of the medbay that looked like a cresent moon. He sighed. Got slagged again, probably Ratchet gonna yell again, and he had made a mess of things again.<p>

He was surprised Smokescreen didn't have a pool running of how many times he could get slagged up.

His thoughts turned to Bluestreak and his spark ached for the young gunner.

How he must be feeling. The Praxian had admitted on the battlefield that he was scared of rejection, and he hadn't even reassured those worries. He had gone offline before he had a chance to do so. And slag it if the look on Bluestreak's face made a fierce protective urge flame over him. Blue shouldn't be worried sick about him, not at all. He really wanted to see the doorwinged mech smiling and laughing again in happiness.

What could he give to him?

The idea popped into his processor immediately.

He should ask Bluestreak on a date.

But then he recoiled from the idea. He knew Bluestreak, knew the gentle and kind soul he was and yet he couldn't help but shy away from any possible inkling of a relationship. He wasn't sure if he was ready to trust again, even after so long after the breakdown between he and Sirrus.

It was unnerving somewhat. He knew he felt something... even if he had never really noticed it before. And if he was honest with himself, which he made a point of doing as often as he could, he wouldn't be opposed to starting a relationship with Bluestreak. He couldn't really even think of a more caring partner. It was just...

"I can't do it..." He mumbled to himself, switching his optics off.

"Can't do what?"

The voice startled him, his optics snapping back on with alarm as he shifted far too quickly for his steal healing body. He gave an involuntary yelp of pain and hands reached out to keep him on the berth.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to startle you! You just talked so suddenly and I thought you were talking to me, but I was just so surprised 'cause Ratchet said you wouldn't really be awake yet, not for awhile and you're still only half repaired!" The rambling could only be identified to Bluestreak and Wheeljack groaned.

He wasn't ready for this NOW! Frag! And the irony was not lost on him. Weeks of trying to pin down the gunner and now that he had a chance he was shrinking away from it!

'_Coward! Fragging aft __**COWARD**__ Wheeljack!_'

"...and Prowl's been threatening to pull me into his office with you there, and I know if _he_knows, then it's been really obvious that I'm avoiding you and..."

Oh...Bluestreak was still going.

"Blue," he said hoarsely, "Calm down." It was really the only thing he could advise. He was stuck on the berth in the medbay - the most unromantic place in all of the ARK (unless you were Ratchet and the twins)- and Bluestreak was having a babbling meltdown which was not helping with the processor ache brought on by the pain. Add that he was torn between not saying anything about Bluestreak's attentions and about addressing them, which would be very awkward to get through. Oh, and don't forget he was currently in one of his most slagged conditions he had ever been in.

Bluestreak took a deep breath and let it out and said, "I'm sorry. And...I really wish I hadn't of been avoiding you."

Helm fins flickering weakly, Wheeljack replied in a pain filled slur, "Issalright. You 'kay?"

"You shouldn't worry about me Jack, I'm fine," The younger mech tried to reassure, but the inflection in his tone made him completely transparent to the healing engineer.

"No, you're not," the Lancia said softly, thanking Primus his meds had just kicked in, "you're doorwings are sagging at 20 degrees lower than they should be. You've had a nightmare, haven't you? Especially after attacking that Decepticon to save me." Wheeljack did feel a bit guilty at the crestfallen look on Bluestreak's face as he realised he was plainly displaying his emotions.

"It's nothing..." Bluestreak muttered.

"Yeah, N' I'mma turbo fox." Wheeljack frowned.

"No." Bluestreak suddenly quipped, "You're just the inventor who never misses a chance to blow everything up."

The Lancia felt his lips twitch at the corners but in the end couldn't fight the grin that was spreading across his faceplates. However, Bluestreak's sudden scrutiny of him caught him by surprise.

"Blue, what -"

"Why don't you let others see your smile more often?" There was genuine curiosity in the Datsun's tone.

It was then that Wheeljack realized that he was maskless. His optics went wide in alarm and another wordless noise of distress left his vocals.

"No, please don't put your mask back on!" Bluestreak pleaded, hands suddenly shooting out to cup Wheeljack's faceplates, hoping that Wheeljack wouldn't dare shut his mask on his fingers. His helm fins were flickering yellow in alarm and he was trying to turn his helm away from the younger mech.

"Jack, please look at me," Bluestreak tried again, gently stroking the lightly scarred faceplate. Were the scars bothering Wheeljack? Was that why he wore the mask? Bluestreak thought it was rather pointless really. There were only about four scars and only one was really noticable, while the others you'd have to search to point them out. The lighter silver of the scars drew the gunner's attention and he gently stroked a thumb down the lighter coloured, but healed, weld.

"No, Blue, I'm old, disfigured, don't!" Wheeljack protested, cursing his injured state. He would have been able to turn away if he had not been so damaged.

Looking worridly into the stressed blue optics, Bluestreak found that his spark broke for the mech below him. He had never thought that Wheeljack had skeletons in the closet. Guess they were more alike than he had previously thought. "Wheeljack, I don't know what you're talking about. Your face is fine. In fact, it's really handsome when you smile."

Wheeljack's struggles ceased at the words. Bluestreak's words had that innocent ring of truth about them. But his past...he had never let the hateful comments go, and they had clung to him like barnacles to the hull of a ship. Looking up into the baby blue optics of the grey mech cupping his face, Wheeljack saw something he hadn't seen in anybot's optics in a long time.

Want.

Not lust, a physical want.

But a want just to care, to care about, to reassure, to be with.

Wheeljack felt his entire frame begin to tremble. He could hear the words, the laughing... But at the same time, no matter how hard he looked, he could find no deceit in the young mech's optics. And he felt a wave of guilt wash through him that he would be looking for something so mean sparked in such an honest mech.

Wheeljack frowned. "Blue. It's okay. I'm not disillusioned or anything..." He averted his optics, unable to turn his helm out of Bluestreak's grip.

"What do you mean? I really do think you look very handsome," Bluestreak said, but his faceplates were heating in a blush as he said it. He was confused. He thought that Wheeljack would welcome the complement but the engineer seemed like he wanted to bolt, to close his facemask up so no one would ever see his face again. Only his fingers on Wheeljack's cheeks seemed to make sure that Wheeljack couldn't hide.

Biting his lower lip in between sentences, Wheelajck said, "Bluestreak, I don't want you to lie to me to make up for the avoiding thing. I don't think I'm a good-looking mech at all really."

Bluestreak opened his mouth to protest, but halted when he saw something shadow over the usually cheerful glint in the older mechs optics. Plucking up his courage, he asked gently, "Jack...who made you believe that?"

Wheeljack's helm fins flickered from orange to yellow wuickly and then settled on yellow. Bluestreak was being too perceptive today. He must have been taking lessons from Ratchet.

"It...it was nobody," he replied. He winced as it came out. It sounded vague even to him!

"Like slag Jack! I have never seen you like this and that means it's like trauma like what happened to me with my memories of Praxus and the destruction which I never will forget and I am still haunted so please don't lie to me and yourself because I know something or someone would have had to have told you this heaps of times to hurt you or something like that. Wheeljack, I've always talked and you've always listened, so why doesn't it switch around? Talk to me and I'll listen," Bluestreak babbled determinedly, absentmindedly stroking the sides of Wheeljack's face again

"Bluestreak..." Wheeljack murmured. "Blue, please, I can't -"

"Wheeljack." Bluestreak cut in, serious. "Please. Let me listen."

"Promise me you'll never tell another soul," Wheeljack whispered quietly, resolve wilting under the wide opticed and innocent gaze.

"I swear on the ruins of Praxus," Bluestreak whispered back.

Wheeljack knew, with absolute certainty, that Bluestreak was as good as his word. Because that sentence had been incorporated into Bluestreak becoming an Autobot. If he swore on Praxus, then he meant it with all of his spark. It gave the engineer a bit of a nudge to open up, to allow himself to become vulnerable, just for this moment.

"I never used to wear a mask. Never. Even if I was dealing with explosives or other dangerous materials, I never wore it. Not many other engineers did either, because we needed to experience everything. So...I did make things explode, even back then," he explained slowly, quirking his lips up at his last comment as Bluestreak did too. "And one day there was a new receptionist at the engineering wing of the academy, where I researched at. His name...was Sirrus."

Bluestreak waited patiently as Wheeljack paused, gathering his will with a long draw of air through his intakes. "He was great. A real charmer, flirted up and down all over the academy." A bitter smile pulled at the inventor's exposed face. "Needless to say I was hooked from the first 'hello'. We dated. He was so sweet... those first few orns." He paused again, feeling his systems wanting to push him into recharge. but he needed to finish this. He'd started, so he may as well continue to the end. He took another draught of cool air into his systems. "I was absolutely convinced he was the one, ya know? _**HE**_had me convinced. Ratchet warned me to not just stop at one, not get ahead of myself. But frag, I was young and in love. I was so sure it would never end."

Bluestreak felt a pang in his spark at the absolute look of grief on the engineer's face.

"But he had this way about him." Wheeljack continued, his optics staring at the ceiling, Bluestreak's servos still framing his face. "There were so many time that I was left feeling like I wan't good enough. At the time, I never realized that he had been allowing it. Never told me otherwise, always saying that i needed to try to present myself better. After awhile that was all I ever heard when we were together. I wasn't good enough he could do so much better than me, that I was lucky I was good in the berth or he would have left me ages before. It was bad enough in private and my self esteem eventually became so low, even Ratchet was skipping classes to stay with me. And when he took it public, I felt... absolutely broken. Still do." The small growl above him had his optics tracing warily to the Datsun's face. He was surprised to see anger playing there.

"Continue." Bluestreak said slowly, strained.

Wheeljack frowned, but didn't argue. he wouldn't admit it just then, but an angry Bluestreak was an intimidating Bluestreak.

"Eventually, it became too much." The inventor was quick to derail the look of absolute horror that crossed Bluestreak's face. "No! Oh, Primus no! I never got bad enough to want to kill myself, contrary to what all my explosions say! No. It never came to that. I made the move to break up with him. Ratchet had been helping me along and although he never PUSHED me to do anything, he was encouraging that I break out of Sirrus's hold. He got... violent, when I finally confronted him. The Enforcers were called in, I was placed in witness protection and I just... I wore the mask. Never really took it off again. Never trusted my spark to another again."

Bluestreak took a moment to let it all soak into his processor. It was so terribly sobering to hear that Wheeljack, who was chipper, upbeat, and a real go-getter despite the many times he had managed to blow himself up, had been treated like that. Apart from perhaps Jazz and Bumblebee, Wheeljack was the most liked mech on the whole Ark!

"That...really sucks," Bluestreak said, cursing himself at the lame attempt at empathy.

Wheeljack had to chuckle at that, The response was just so Bluestreak.

"I mean...I don't ever want you to think like that anymore. I...Primus I REALLY want to hug you right now, but I'm not sure, because I've had a massive crush on you for such a long time and I don't know if it'll be appropriate in these circumstances," Bluestreak whispered, gently taking his hands away from Wheeljack's face, giving him a wordless choice. Keep it open and trust, or close it, and walk away from what he had to offer. Wheeljack seemed to sense it too, and he was biting his lower lip again, enraptured by the honesty in Bluestreak's optics.

"Blue, I want to try. I do, I'd really like to go out with you and see if this leads somewhere," Wheeljack said honestly, as if surprised at it own admission.

Bluestreak smiled, making the engineer's spark melt at the sight. "I'd like to. Really. I would really like to be the one that you'd...trust your spark to again. I really want to help you forget about Sirrus. He's a no good bucket of slag for saying those sorts of things to you. I'd never, ever, even to the most ugly thing on Earth do something like that."

"Say it Blue," Wheeljack whispered again, hesitantly, well aware he was probably feeling like Bluestreak had in the past three weeks. Afraid of rejection.

"Say what?" asked the gunner, confused.

"Say I'm good enough for you to even think about touching, about...wanting to go out with." Wheeljack was opening himself to his most vulnerable, his mask still retracted, showing his quivering lips.

Bluestreak look surprised for a moment. Then he smiled gently and said, "I'll do you one better."

And he leaned forward and did the one thing he'd been dreaming of for the last hundred vorns. He pressed a chaste, sincere kiss on the inventor's exposed lips. Wheeljack's vents stalled for a moment and he stilled. Then he pushed forward, optics offlining and applying his own pressure.

When Bluestreak pulled away, both their faces were flush with embarrassment and mingling pleasure. Bluestreak smiled softly, noting the star struck, but weary look in the inventor's dimming optics. "Rest 'Jack. We'll talk more later, 'kay?"

Wheeljack 'hmmm'd' tiredly, before his systems could no longer stay on and he fell into recharge.

There was silence after that, punctuated with the steady beeps of the machines monitoring Wheeljack's spark, Bluestreak for once not feeling the need to fill the void with words.

"Told you he's a stubborn slag head." Bluestreak looked up to see ratchet leaning in his office door way. the gunner blushed.

"R-ratchet! When did- how did -?"

The medic smiled a mischievous smile, something Bluestreak was sure he'd picked up from Sideswipe. "From just about 'I'll do you one better.'"

Bluestreak groaned in embarrassment, but knew that he would not change what had just happened.

For now he knew that he was feeling just as wanted as he had wanted Wheeljack - not lust, but something milder, gentler.

They were wanted by each other. And sometimes, just by knowing that you were wanted to stick around, that there was that feeling in another, it was enough. With a happy flutter of his doorwings, Bluestreak strode out of the medbay. He couldn't wait to show Wheeljack how to trust once more.

Ratchet shook his helm and walked over to where his friend was recharging. "Tell, you what 'Jack." He smiled fondly. "You sure know how to pick 'em."

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><p><strong>So you all know the drill! Read, review, good honest critque and no flamers, thankyouverymuch ^^<strong>

**Be sure to keep an eye out for the next part. I'll most likely post the rest in chapters here. XD**


	2. Feelings Clicking into Place T

**Well look, I should be updating HiWtHi right now, but something just doesn't feel right so sorry to say you'll have to wait for that one peeps!**

**But in the mean time, here's some more Blue and Jack for ya!XD**

**A lovely little RP/series done with Darkeyes17 who is fragging amazing! Check out her stuff people!**

**Disclaimer: not ours... but if they were... mmmmm ~**

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><p><strong>Feelings Clicking into Place<strong>

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><p>Wheeljack looked up as the doors to the medbay opened and Bluestreak strode in, grinning from audio to audio and carrying two cubes of energon. His helm indicators flickered blue happily as he saw the object of his affections came towards him and give him the energon.<p>

"I'm so glad you're getting out today. I've wanted to hang out with you just talking and _alone _for so long, but I understand that the three weeks was needed for you to heal and all, because that has got to be one of the worst explosions I've seen you et caught in, and-"

"Blue!" Wheeljack laughed, halting the gunner's babble, "calm down. You're being nervous. Don't worry, I can't wait to spend more time with you too."

The comment made Bluestreak grin more, taking a sip of his own energon, and said, "So where's Ratchet" He'd said he'd sign you out so you'd be free."

Wheeljack's helm fins flickered brightly again and he smiled, "Either his triplets or his twin hellions. Although I'm thinking it's the triplets. Ratchet mentioned yesterday that Jumpstart was being moody and fussy lately, and that Speedlight crawls around so fast that he's in one place and then in another before any of them can pick him up. Brightspark is the easiest one to handle, apparently. She simply loves to paint and draw. She's very creative. Why, she even made that sculpture over there!" Bluestreak heard the pride in Wheeljack's voice over his niece and nephews, and looked to where the engineer was pointing.

A small slump of clay was sitting off to the side, two servos prints pressed into the surface along with many hearts pressed beside them. There was a note attatched in Sideswipe's print that read, 'Kids miss ya. They want you to get better! And hurry the frag up cause i need to get those sticky pellets again! Prowl's being an aft!'

"So she made this for you?" Bluestreak smiled.

Wheeljack's helm fins lit up and he swung his legs over the edge of the medberth. "So the story goes."

Bluestreak grinned even wider. "That's so sweet. Makes you wonder how her creators can be who they are."

"Yeah, me too," grouched a voice from the doorway.

Bluestreak and Wheeljack both turned to give Ratchet a quick grin as he came in, wiping something pink from his arm with a rag.

"Jumpstart wasn't having his energon before his nap," the medic said in a quick way of explanation, throwing the rag onto the nearest bench before going over to his oldest friend and the young Praxian. He picked up a datapad and quickly scrolled through the three weeks worth of data before signing off at the bottom. He then wordlessly gave the datapad to Wheeljack, who also signed it off. They'd been through the drill enough times before not to go through the instructions.

"All right, you're free. I don't want to see you in this medbay for the next two days _at least_, you hear?" Ratchet threatened, waving his wrench from side to side in emphasis.

The engineer sighed exasperatedly while Bluestreak giggled. "Yes Ratchet, I'll be a good boy and stay away from the explosives for that long," Wheeljack agreed half-heartedly.

Bluestreak giggled again. "Yeah, Ratchet. Don't worry. I'll make SURE he keeps away from the explosives!"

Wheeljack spluttered indignantly while Bluestreak and Ratchet laughed. "Hey! That's not fair! I practically _live_in that lab, y'know!"

"Which means your quarters are probably dusty." Ratchet quipped. "We need to work on that! And officer needs to have a good image of hygiene and cleanliness."

Wheeljack didn't miss a beat before he said, all grins and sarcasm, "Yes, Prowl!"

It took little to no effort for him to dodge the half-sparked swing of a wrench at his helm."I'm nowhere near as bad as that."

Bluestreak tilted his head in a curious manner, finding the banter between the old friends oddly... well, he was feeling a little jealous that Ratchet could converse so easily with the mech he'd loved for vorns and he was still blabber mouth every time he attempted to speak to the inventor. He wished he could have the easy familiarity these two seemed to have.

"Watch'a staring at Blue?"

Bluestreak jumped a little, startled by the sudden question. He glanced up to see Wheeljack and Ratchet staring at him with equal looks of curiosity. "Uh... well... I -" A good cover up he needed a good cover up. "I was just wondering who might be worse... Prowl or Sunstreaker."

There was a stretch of silence in which the gunner feared he had been seen through before Ratchet murmured quietly, "You know, that's a good question."

Bluestreak giggled nervously, relief filling him at the diverted attention as Wheeljack needled Ratchet about the similarities between Prowl and the volatile younger twin. After a few more minutes of chatting, Wheeljack and Bluestreak left Ratchet in his domain and left, walking amiably side by side.

Bluestreak opened his mouth to say something, but awkwardness took over. He had kissed Wheeljack once and oh Primus how the touch of the older mechs lips on his own was like heaven, but they hadn't done it since. Mostly, when he went to visit the accident prone Lancia in the medbay, they talked about daily events, how they were, how comfortable they were feeling in beginning a relationship. The most touches they had shared had been a few hugs and holding each other hands. It was sweet, but now...

The gunner twitched his wings as they traveled in silence. He really didn't know how to begin.

"Ok, what was the real reason you were staring at me and Ratch back there Blue?" Wheeljack asked abruptly, making Bluestreak jump a little, but the tone was kind.

"Umm..." Bluestreak bit his lower lip nervously.

Wheeljack looked at him, optics and helm fins twinkling merrily as he questioned, "Can't be too bad, can it? You know you can tell me anything, Blue."

Bluestreak scratched at his helm, his free servo grasping for Wheeljack's subconsciously. "It's a little embarrassing..."

Wheeljack squeezed Bluestreak's servo in reassurance. "What if I promise not to laugh?"

That got a smile from the gunner. "Well, I suppose I was feeling... just a little put out back there."

The elder mech squeezed again, urging him to continue with the unspoken, but understood question of 'Why?'

"You and Ratchet have such an, uh, - _easy_? - relationship. I kinda felt left behind and maybe... a little... jealous."

Wheeljack choked as he tried not laugh. After all, he had promised. He doubled over in silent gales of laughter before looking up and struggling not to laugh again. Bluestreak's pout was adorable! He gasped, taking in deep intakes as he sought for control. He didn't make a sound apart for gasping, and eventually calmed down enough to get out, "Ratchet and me have been friends for so long that it _does_get like that. It's not something to really get jealous about. Yes, it's easy. But there are times when we just want to rip out each other's voice boxes. Fortunately, old Hatchet's mellowed since he met the twins and had the triplets."

Bluestreak's faceplates heated in embarrassment. Of course he shouldn't have gotten jealous; it was such a youngling like thing to do.

The mostly white mech couldn't help it and he chuckled, "Aw Blue, don't worry. Besides, you look cute when you're pouting."

That made Bluestreak's faceplates heat more and he turned to look into Wheeljack's kind, affectionate optics as a hand cupped his cheek and dropped a light kiss on his pursed lips. A warm wash of love flowed over him at the action. After all, for all of three seconds, the other mech had bared his face to the public hallways of the Ark.

"Let's go to my quarters, hmm? Go see if there's as much dust as the Hatchet _thinks_ there is," the inventor suggested, tone light and joking. It was infectious and the grey doorwinger smiled too.

* * *

><p>"Wow, guess I really should spend more time in here." Wheeljack murmured sheepishly, his vocal indicators flashing an embarrassed pink.<p>

The room wasn't so much as dusty as it was bare. Over the vorns, Wheeljack had become used to just spending all his time in his lab or the rec room or in battle. So much so that he often took to recharging in the labs. He had moved a lot of his personal things there, aside from a few trinkets and what not that were in here but stuffed on the nearly bare shelves or under the berth. In fact, the only times he really remembered coming here was when he really needed some privacy.

Bluestreak stared around with wide optics. Not even Prowl before he had met Jazz used to have quarters as bare as this. If it wasn't for the fact that he _knew_that these quarters were Wheeljack's, he would have mistaken it, for most part, as a spare room.

It was fairly spacious, given that Wheeljack was an officer, with a small living room with table, chairs and a comfy couch in front of a TV. A door led to the berthroom and washrack, both fairly plain and standard. Many of the items looked next to new given the scarcity they had been used. The gunner's doorwings twitched excitedly. Maybe sometimes soon he'd be coming home to these quarters, cuddling up to Wheeljack in that soft berth-

_'No! Don't think that, don't get ahead of yourself, just take it one day at a time, one day at a time_,') he scolded himself mentally.

Scanning his surrounding once more, he noted that the room did have a touch of Wheeljack.

On a dresser was a large lava lamp, with a note attached: 'To Study'. A poster on the wall depicted an explosion, while another on the opposite was a large picture of a galaxy. And he was sure that in the living room there had been a few potted plants.

"Well...it gives you a lot to work on," Bluestreak offered awkwardly, all the while in his mind thinking where some of his personal objects would fit in.

"I suppose." Wheeljack chuckled, cheerful as he always was. "But on the upside, I can rub it in Ratchet's faceplates that this place isn't dusty much at all!"

"I'm not sure that was the point, 'Jack." The grey Datsun admonished half-jokingly.

All that earned him was a shrug. "I get bored."

"Primus forbid you get _bored_!" Bluestreak groaned. "I'm not sure there would be any of the ARK left!"

He giggled when he received a playful smack on his arm along with a sullen 'Hush, you!'

There were a few moments in which Bluestreak strolled the room, mentally noting places to put things or things that needed to be cleaned up.

Meanwhile Wheeljack watched him. As in truly observed the gunner like he hadn't before.

He didn't think the younger mech knew it, but how he felt always translated through his actions. His doorwings were swaying slowly back and forth with thought, his movements chipper but slightly uncertain, as though not sure if he was stepping over boundaries. The vivid red chevron looked striking over the innocent, open faceplate with the adorable lips set in concentration.

And those doorwings.

Slightly smaller than Prowl's but no less graceful, they looked like they were begging to be touched. Wheeljack knew how sensitive doorwings were, but resisted the urge to touch. There would be time for that later on in the relationship.

His optics followed him, admiring the curve of the hood and his aft, down to thighs that were perfectly rounded.

Before his thoughts veered even more towards an M-rating, Bluestreak interrupted him with a innocent, "What are you staring at, 'Jack?"

Oh, the irony.

Hmmm... Truth or lie? Well, he'd never lied to the gunner on purpose before, so he wasn't about to start now. "Just admirin' you Blue. You have nice angles." Wow, had that really just left his vocalizer?

Bluestreak's faceplates visibly heated up and he became flustered. "Wha - but - I mean, you're so much better looking and your design is so unique 'cause, you know, you don't share it with anybot else and I share mine with Prowl and Smokescreen and I mean you're so much more interesting! Besides! You're smarter and much more graceful and, and -"

"Blue! Calm down! It's okay, mech, deep intakes!" Wheeljack rushed to calm the flustered mech. "I was just makin' and observation."

The gunner flushed again, although the embarrassment was tingled with happiness. He was really glad that Wheeljack liked the look of him. It had been one of the things he had been worried about in facing Wheeljack after blurting out his feelings a month and a half ago.

Wheeljack stepped closer, gently taking a hand in his own and leading Blustreak towards his berth and sitting at the end, making sure the grey and red mech had a seat before wrapping his arms around the younger mech in a comforting embrace. "I do admire how you look. There is such a wonderful innocence about you. One, if I were an older and dirtier mech, I would like to exploit," he joked, helm fins lighting up with their usual blue merriment.

It did make Bluestreak laugh and he leaned into Wheeljack, loving the feel of warm arms around him.

His spark pulsed joyfully in his chest.

Bluestreak took a deep intake, calming himself. He didn't know why he suddenly felt so shy. He had been pining for this. Had yearned to have the inventor turn his way and now that he finally had he was going to go nuclear on the poor mech? What kind of courter _was_he?

"S-sorry... Just... you know... I was hoping to court you properly and I'm such a mess up when it comes to these things and I really don't know what I'm doing and -, " He cut himself off when he realized he was rambling again. He ducked his helm and muttered. "Sorry."

"Don't be." Wheeljack told the young mech firmly. "Don't ever feel like you can't say anything to me Blue. I like that most about you. You don't hold anything back."

He could say anything? Really. It wouldn't annoy him? Actually now that the gunner thought about it, Wheeljack had never asked him to be quiet or so much as muttered a 'mute it' at him in all the conversations they'd had. It was a relieving feeling really. The pearlish-blue optics focused on the facemask covering the rest of the inventor's face.

"Hey Jack...can you please retract your mask for me?"

Wheeljack looked intently into Bluestreak's optics as he carefully retracted the mask, baring his faceplates to the grey Praxian.

Bluestreak's optics brightened as he smiled. "I've said it before, I'll say it again, you look really handsome Wheeljack and it's always such a shame that you don't show everyone your smile more often because it's beautiful. I'm really glad that it's all for me." He said the last part quickly, still a bit leery of saying what he felt, even if the mech before him encouraged it.

Wheeljack chuckled, relaxing as gentle, tentative fingers moved to his face, tenderly stroking over his cheek seams, touching his scars carefully, lightly. The touches were not judging, but accepting. It made the engineer sigh and shutter his optics with the sensations. It was pleasant to not fear. It had been another of the things he and Bluestreak had talked about while he had been laid up in medbay. They talked about his past with Sirrus, talked about how Wheeljack should be free to expose his face around Blue. His helm fins shone a softer blue as Bluestreak's nimble fingers slid up to his optics, tracing them, before moving down his nasal ridge and to his lips.

"I really like your lips. They seem...really perfect," Bluestreak observed quietly, going bolder with more confidence.

"Blue..." Whispered Wheeljack.

Bluestreak watched as Wheeljack relaxed under his fingers, felt the exhale of air from the parted lips as his thumb brushed across them. He leaned in, slowly, still slightly unsure. Wheeljack's optics came back on, and he pressed forward, meeting the Datsun halfway. Their lips molded, plate for plate, inch for inch and they kissed softly. What felt like an eternity was really only a few moments before they were pulling away.

Bluestreak hadn't even realized that he'd bought both hands up to frame Wheeljack's face, and likewise, Wheeljack hadn't realized that his own hands were resting on Bluestreak's forearms. they stayed like that for a few moments, just looking at each other, neither sure what to say, both too afraid to break the moment.

"It seemed really unlikely, that you liked me back, you know? I have wanted to kiss you for so long. And now I am, and it's just...wonderful. I know we know each other well for ages as friends and I know we are knew to the deeper relationship thing but when I kiss you...it feels like home," whispered Bluestreak, carefully breaking the loaded silence.

"I was more worried about the age gap to tell you the truth, more than attraction," Wheeljack said, brushing his lips over the younger's once more briefly in a teasing touch.

The doorwinger's intakes hitched and he replied, "I've never seen you as old. To me, you seem so young. Because you keep getting up when you fall, you keep being curious about everything about you and wanting to help the Autobots with your inventions - and your enthusiasm for making stuff about matches mine for talking."

They both chuckled softly at that.

"Hey Blue...I think it's beginning to feel like home too."

Bluestreak smiled at Wheeljack, placing soft kisses all on the faint, barely noticeable scars on the silver faceplate. An internal alarm buzzed and he reluctantly pulled away.

"I got patrol. I'll leave you to rest, but I'll be back and we can keep doing stuff later, ok?" asked Bluestreak, double checking.

Vocal indicators flashing, Wheeljack assured, "Don't worry. I've got a plan for tonight."

With a cheeky glint in his optic, the gunner teased, "just as long as it doesn't involve bombs, then it's all good."

"Brat." Wheeljack scoffed, pushing Bluestreak's shoulder softly.

"You know it." Bluestreak teased, ducking to kiss the CME once more. "Gottagoloveyoubye!"

Wheeljack chuckled softly, watching the doors cycle shut behind the seemingly floating soldier.

After Bluestreak had made his exit, Wheeljack stood and looked around the room. "Well then... Let's see what we can do about this."

* * *

><p>Bluestreak got off patrol, feeling distinctly differing emotions. He was tired from patrol but also invigorated to see Wheeljack again. His spark felt light and happy at the thought that they were going to do something tonight. Maybe something resembling an actual date! The thought made him grin, and he chirped greetings to anybot who passed in his happy haze. Prowl passed by him, giving him a fond look of amusement before continuing on his way.<p>

Now at his destination and tapping on Wheeljack's door, he giggled when he heard a thud and then a muffled voice going, 'Why did I decide to put that there?' before the door cycled open to reveal Wheeljack, helm fins going an odd mixture of pink and orange in embarrassment as he rubbed at his helm.

"Hey Jack, what did ya do?" Bluestreak asked, giggling again at the odd colouring of the flickering lights.

"Banged my head on this shelf. Do you want to see what I did?" asked Wheeljack, stepping back and holding his arm out to gesture at the room.

Blustreak stepped in and stopped, optics widening in surprise.

Previously in the day, the living room had been barren of personality. Now it was flushed with color and life. The space was now utterly Wheeljack's.

There were datapads stacked on the desk, although certainly not in any order as per Wheeljack. There were failed, but memorable, inventions tucked away in corners along with their respective blueprints on the walls either above or beside them. A tool kit sat on the berth and it looked like Wheeljack had been working on something new over there before Bluestreak had shown up. Around the berth were several more inventions... Probably what Wheeljack had tripped on when he'd stood to answer the door.

"It certainly looks... lived in." Bluestreak commented. "Not so barren anymore."

"Yeah, I decided it needed a little life in here. Especially since Ratchet came by and threatened that if I didn't start sleeping in a proper berth he would make sure that there was a medberth suitable enough to strap me on."

And that image should _not_ have sounded or seem as appealing as it did in that moment to the gunner. "Uh... right..."

"Anyway," Wheeljack went on, not noticing the odd tone the words were said in, "We're not staying in tonight. I'm so relieved the Hatchet let me out today or we would have missed it." He walked back into his berthroom to pack up the toolbox, leaving Bluestreak looking after him with a quizzical look on his face.

"Uh...missed what?" asked the younger mech, doorwings twitching in confusion.

"Oh! Sorry, I meant the shower of shooting stars! If we get on top of the Ark, we'll be able to see it clearly. It starts in about forty minutes, so we'll have enough time to go up there and chat," explained the engineer, helm flanges flickering in excitement at the thought. Putting the toolbox away, he went back into the living room where Bluestreak was smiling widely again.

"Really? A real shower of shooting stars? That is so cool!" exclaimed Bluestreak.

The Lancia also couldn't help but think the 'out under the stars' scenario would also be cheesily romantic. Nevertheless, he smiled under his mask, taking the gunner's arm and leading them out of his quarters.

* * *

><p>The sky was dark with smatterings of stars dotting the velvet backdrop that would have been space without the atmosphere surrounding the planet. The moon wasn't out tonight (something Wheeljack mentioned as a 'new moon') which was perfect for what they wanted to see. Wheeljack led the way, heading up the steep incline that led to the top of the ARK, the same spot Bluestreak had sniped from not three weeks before. The ground from the battle was still scorched in places and even pink with stained energon in others. Impressive craters littered the area beneath them, memoirs to Wheeljack's 'Exploding Organic Bouncy Balls' (As so dubbed by Sideswipe after his had bounced twice before actually exploding in anybody's faceplates).<p>

Bluestreak purposefully avoided looking at the crater directly below them, not wanting to look and see Wheeljack flying into the wall and crumpling all over again. The image had never quite left his CPU.

"Well, here we go!" Said mech intoned cheerfully, his vocal indicators flashing a bright green in his excitement. He reached into subspace and pulled out a large blanket he ahd borrowed from Jazz until he could get one of his own, and two cubes of highgrade.

"Highgrade?" Bluestreak asked, really meaning for it to be rehetoric.

"Yeah, in celebration! For me getting out of medbay for one thing," they both laughed at that, "and for...well, to the start of a relationship," the inventor said kindly, sitting down on the blanket and retracting his mask, holding out the second cube of high grade to his companion. Bluestreak took it with a warm smile, sitting next to the mostly white mech and leaning in so his helm rested on Wheeljack's shoulder. It was a position they'd often taken as friends when Bluestreak literally needed a shoulder to cry on at times.

"To a new beginning, I guess," stated the gunner, clinking his cube with Wheeljack's before taking a swig. He shivered at the unique taste.

"Like that?" Wheeljack asked with a little smirk, looking very self-satisfied.

"Heck yeah. That's not like normal high-grade, and not even like the twins brew, and boy does their brew knock yours out. I have never tried heaps of highgrade, but this one is...smoother? Well, that's all I can really explain it as. It's really flavorful. I can feel it all around my glossa. It's all tingly!" the younger mech exclaimed at the end, making the older mech laugh.

"It's my brew," the Lancia alt-mode mech explained. "I got it from my stash, so it's been aging for a while. Still got juuust the right kick, eh Blue?"

"Mmm," hummed Bluestreak, licking at the cube as a drop streaked down the side.

Wheeljack gaped behind his blastmask at the loaded smile the gunner shot at him after cleaning the drop from his cube. Who knew that the innocent little Bluestreak could make expressions like _that_! In fact Wheeljack was pretty sure than any of the expressions he could make. Not that he'd actually had many lovers to begin with, but he was certainly no slouch. He coughed awkwardly, letting his mask slide away so that he could hide his face in his highgrade. Bluestreak snickered at Wheeljack's obvious awkwardness. It was cute.

The Datsun shifted closer, growing bolder with each moment that the inventor was smiling at him. He tucked his helm more snugly against Wheeljack's neck, one arm winding around the inventor's waist and tugging him so that their hips were touching. A contented sigh escaped both as they relaxed into the contact.

"Blue, look up," Wheeljack whispered, pointing with his free hand towards the starry sky.

They both gazed up, mouths falling slightly open in wonder as white streaks grazed across the sky, the shooting stars beginning their shower in bursts of light, painting stardust as they went. Bluestreak hugged Wheeljack tighter, amazed and thankful he had gotten to see such a sight. The atmosphere on Cybertron meant that these kinds of phenomena were very rarely seen. It was beautiful - almost as if Sunstreaker had painted a picture and instructed it to move.

"More than what the news report said," the CME mused aloud.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah. It wasn't supposed to continue for seven minutes, it was only supposed to be for three, but I'm not complaining," Wheeljack replied, absentmindedly stroking his thumb over the younger mech's hip seam.

The soothing touch made Bluestreak press a small kiss into the warm neck cables. He felt like he was being too clingy at times when he was like this, but Wheeljack's acceptance of touch and reciprocation of it told him it was good to be as tactile when comforting as he was.

Bluestreak felt a little shiver race down the Lancia's backstruts and he pulled his head away so he could look into Wheeljack's exposed face. It was a little flushed, and it couldn't have been from the highgrade. Wheeljack still had half a cube left.

"Cold?" He asked.

Wheeljack glanced at him and his faceplates seemed to flush a brighter pink. "Ah? Oh, no, well it is pretty chilly, but, uh..." He rubbed at the spot Bluestreak had kissed, the warmth of his exhales still lingering on the sensitive components. "Well, how to say it? My neck cables are... kinda sensitive."

The grey gunner giggled mischievously and asked, "Oh, so this is sensitive?"

Wheeljack got a moment to realize he had let the wrong information go before warm lips were on his neck cables, peppering light kisses along his cables. He began to giggle at the light touch, fully going into laughter as tender hands tickled him just under his front windshield. He leant back, lying down on the blanket, Bluestreak re-arranging himself so that he was on top.

The engineer's laughter abruptly cut off into a moan as the light kisses stopped and a hot mouth opened to suck softly at an energon line.

Primus, he had forgotten how good it had felt to have someone suckle on his neck!

Wheeljack let loose with another moan as Bluestreak laid hot, open mouthed kisses all over his neck, hands stilled on his windshield. Wheeljack's own hands slid from the position on the younger mech's waist to creep up to the hinge of the doorwings.

"Nhhh! 'Jack!" Blueastreak hummed in a low vibrato as the engineer's clever digits feathered across his hinges before delving in. "Ah!"

The gunner bit down on the cable he was sucking on, eliciting a surprised squeak from Wheeljack, followed by a low moan. Blueastreak dragged his glossa along the cable he had bitten, soothing the sting, before he pulled himself up. His lips dragged along the exposed cheek seams as Bluestreak followed in his mind the same path he had made with his digits earlier that day. He kissed Wheeljack's shuttered optics, skimmed down the nasal ridge and brushed their lips together before pressing more firmly.

Wheeljack gasped at the feel of those wonderful lips against his. Bluestreak was right. It felt like home. In the past, he might have had so many inhibitions about opening himself up again, but the Praxian mech touched him like no one else had before. Like he was a treasure to be loved forever. It inspired trust from the inventor, and he boldly parted his lips to allow the gunner access to his mouth for the first time.

Bluestreak moaned slightly at the action, finally, _finally_ feeling the tentative brush of Wheeljack's glossa with his own.

Their glossa's brushed, and then stroked, the kiss like the kindling of a flame. Soft. Tender. Perfect.

And then, with a soft nip of the elder mech's denta to a full bottom lip, the flame turned into an explosion.

The gunner's hands flew up to cup the engineer's cheeks, holding them in place as he plundered the other's mouth, exploring, sighing at the unique taste of Wheeljack. And the best part was that Wheeljack was meeting him as an equal, one hand at the nape of his neck while another was stroking at his chevron. Bluestreak couldn't help but marvel at their kiss. It was fiery, passionate, and Wheeljack was such a good kisser.

They pulled away gasping, staring optics to optics, cheeks flushed, intaking air heavily to cool suddenly too warm frames. And then they were colliding again, Bluestreak falling over Wheeljack as the inventor invited him deeper into himself with all the trust in the world.

And the entire moment felt to both that things were finally clicking into place.

Above them, the starry sky lit with two lone falling stars as they twined across the black expanse of space in a never ending dance.

* * *

><p><strong>Don't worry! There WILL be smut in the next and last Arc of these two! Read and review.<strong>


	3. Feeling Treasured M

**Well, TWO updates in ONE week! I am on a ROLE! Now to just post HiWtHi and we're all good for the month! JK Don't kill me! I won't disappear for a month! A lovely shout out to the AMAZING Darkeyes17! She's AWESOME!**

**Disclaimer: Uh... I really wanna say it's ours but... I don't have the money to battle a lawsuit...**

**A/N: This ties up the Bluestreak/Wheeljack Arc. Hound/Mirage is next and will be posted on Darkeye's profile!**

* * *

><p>"Up!" The little voice demanded as Speedlight held his small arms above his head and towards the grey gunner. "Up, Boo!"<p>

Bluestreak squealed, ducking down and hooking the mini Sideswipe under the arms before swinging him into the air. The developing sparkling squealed with delight. "You are so CUTE!"

"Wow, Blue. You spoil 'em more 'n Sunny does." Sideswipe snickered from the couch where Brightspark and he were watching said mech play video games. Brightspark was gleefully shouting instructions at her father that really made no sense, but Sunstreaker pretended they did anyways.

"Well, they are cute..." Bluestreak said as if that explained everything. Speedlight patted at his friend's face as if agreeing with him.

Jumpstart was with Ratchet today, while the ambulance took a drive in the city to the different hospitals he offered aid to and Wheeljack was in his lab, working on a new project (non-explosive he had promised) so the gunner was spending some of his down time with the Twins and their kids.

"Of course they're cute, I'm their father after all," Sunstreaker scoffed teasingly, speeding ahead of his twin on the screen and getting a cheer from his white daughter, identical to him in frame right up to her helm fins.

Speedlight wiggled, bright yellow paint reflecting in the light as he turned to watch his sparkers play.

"Aw, why are my babies all against me today?" Pouted the red twin, pressing on the controller button desperately to try and catch up to his twin.

Brightspark, Bluestreak and Speedlight all giggled while Sunstreaker smirked.

The eldest triplet kicked his little pedes out excitedly and clicked and cooed up at Bluestreak, who imitated the sparkling talk back. Speedlight seemed to take the reply as some sort of affirmation and pointed at the door to the hallway and giggled, "See Uncle Jack, pease Boo?"

"Not yet. Give Uncle Jack another half an hour, kay?" replied the gunner, throwing the sparkling into the air again, making him squeal and click excitedly.

"By the way, how are things with you and our favorite explosive wonder?" Sunstreaker asked.

Bluestreak smiled mischievously and wheedled. "Wouldn't YOU like to know?"

"Uh, _duh_!" Sideswipe exclaimed, pausing the game so he could turn his full attention on Bluestreak. "We gotta know if everything we've taught you works on science nerds!"

The Datsun frowned. "He's not a nerd... Just really smart."

"And thus a nerd." Sideswipe concluded airily, waving a hand. "So, how does Wheeljack like his circuits stroked?"

"_Sideswipe_!" Bluestreak flushed. "That's _private,_thank you very much!"

"Don't tell me you haven't _done_anything yet?" Sunstreaker snorted, plucking his daughter from his brother's lap to situate in his own.

"Well, we have, but - "

"Then come on! We need details!" Sideswipe entreated.

"It's nothing much, okay?" The grey gunner said bashfully, before continuing, "I mean, we're going really slow. It's been three months since Jack's come out of the medbay and we haven't er...you know. Fully. But he's a really great kisser and he just_ loves_when I kiss his neck, or do anything to his neck really. We've...um...had a tactile overload or two and a bit of heavy aft grabbing, but that's about it. I'm a little worried because one of his past lovers was the biggest glitch in the world to him and abused him, and I don't want to make Wheeljack not trust me," he babbled.

"Wait a sec," Interrupted Sunstreaker said, bouncing his daughter on his lap to distract her from the subject, "Wheeljack, the most cool science nerd ever, was abused?"

Bluestreak frowned, and then clapped his hands over his mouth. He hadn't meant to blurt that out.

"Chill Blue, you know we can keep a secret like that," Sideswipe assured, although both he and his twin were frowning at the news. It really explained some things they had noticed about the engineer's behaviour at times.

"Um...yeah, he was. Told he was ugly and all this mean stuff," Bluestreak replied, briefly telling his attentive audience about his lover's tale.

Sunstreaker growled softly, making his sparklings giggle at the sound, and he said lowly, "I hope the fool is deactivated."

"Yes," replied the Praxian.

Speedlight took that moment to squirm even more and squeal, "Me and Bri-spark wanna see Unca Jack!"

Bluestreak had to do some quick maneuvering to keep the discontent sparkling from falling to the ground. "Whoa! Hold up there Speedy! Uncle Jack is working right now and he's in his lab and you know how he is when he's in there, especially when he might be working on something dangerous - "

Speedlight had stopped squirming and was just staring at Bluestreak like he always did when the gunner really got going. Something about Bluestreak's speech enthralled him. Probably because his developing CPU was trying to sort the words from sentences and times like these, it was hard to do so.

"Slow down, Blue! I think you're gonna give the little guy whiplash!" Sideswipe laughed. "Comm. your lover and see what he's up to."

With a sheepish grin, Bulestreak did so.

::_Hey Jack, working on something amazing?_::

The reply came back in an excited chuckle. ::_Always is amazing. Explosions are always spectacular_.::

Bluestreak laughed, watching as the twins rolled their optics at him before he asked ::_Anyway, Speedlight and Brightspark want to see their Uncle Jack and Speedy is especially getting what humans call 'ants-in-his-pants' because he wants to come and see you so much. Can the twins and I come on down?::_

The engineer's chuckle was more affectionate at the mention of the sparklings and he replied, ::_Sure thing, I was just finishing up with Skyfire. Come on and bring them down then.::_

Bluestreak smiled. :: _Alright, see ya soon Jackie_!::

The line was cut and he turned to face the Twins. "Jackie says it's all good."

"Jackie?" Sideswipe asked, standing and reaching for his eldest son who made grabby hands at his father.

Bluestreak relinquished the small Cybertronian with a quick nuzzle to his helm. "Yeah. The first time I said it, Wheeljack laughed and it just kinda stuck."

"I see..."

Sunstreaker snorted and nudged the Datsun. "Well, then let's go lover-mech!"

They left the twins and Ratchet's quarters, chatting amiably as they walked to Wheeljack's lab, laughing at two of the triplets as they toddled down the hallways of the Ark on their little pedes, chasing each other and occasionally stumbling, only for one of the three mechs to help them on their way.

"Jumpstart's really interesting and intelligent for how young he is, really. Ratchet lets him sit in the medbay with him sometimes and watch as he does simple repairs on mechs. You know, the other day I almost died with cuteness," Guffawed Sideswipe as he told the tale, "Because Optimus was in for a check-up and Jumpstart was there. At the end, Ratchet turns to him and says, 'now, can you please heal Optimus?' so Jump goes and gets a little sticky bandage and puts it on Prime's arm and says 'ok, Oppie, now you all better.' Man, Prime just melted. Wish I'd have got a recording to show ya, Blue."

The Praxian mech giggled, doorwings swaying with contentedness as he listened to the story and watched Brightspark and Speedlight.

"Makes you want one, huh?" Sunstreaker questioned softly in the gunner's audio while Sideswipe was distracted.

Blushing, the grey mech replied in a hushed tone, "Not...like...anytime soon. But yeah, in the future, I think it'd be really nice."

Nodding, the golden twin looked with soft optics at his daughter and eldest son. They really were quite precious.

They reached Wheeljack's lab at last, and the sparklings were bouncing in excitement.

Bluestreak grinned and motioned the two closer. "Watch this." He whispered excitedly and he pressed the intercom button just outside the door. It fizzed for a moment and then what was unmistakably Wheeljack's voice floated from inside.

"Who is it ~?" The inventor seemed to sing song.

There was a beat of silence before Speedlight rushed forward and pressed his little hands excitedly against the wall, trying to see into the speaker box. "Unca Jack! Unca Jack! How ya do dat! I wan in too!"

Brightspark didn't seem as thrilled, just looked worriedly at the box.

Wheeljack opened the door via a comm. and turned around and grinned as it opened, Speedlight streaking in a blur of yellow to run up to the engineer.

"Unca Jack, Unca Jack!" the eldest triplet crowed excitedly, squealing happily as he was picked up and hugged, his little hands patting the flashing helm fins.

Wheeljack chuckled. "Have you been a good little mech for your fathers today?" he asked.

"Yep! And I was good for Unca Boo too!" the little one chattered excitedly, looking around and waving at Skyfire, who was stading just behind Wheeljack.

Brightspark came up then, still not sure about the intercom, but also clicked up at the engineer and made the traditional 'pick me up' hands, big blue optics looking pleadingly as she said, "Unca Jack, Wan' snuggles too."

Wheeljack practically turned to goo as he scooped up the femme as well, letting both of them snuggle into his chassis. He cooed softly at the giggling sparklings.

"They're looking well." Skyfire said as he bent to get a better look. Both sparklings looked up at the large shuttle. While they knew Skyfire wouldn't harm them (he had, in fact, proven to be one of the most gentle with them next to Optimus and their parents) they were always so enthralled with his height. Skyfire saw them looking. "Oh, why hello there little ones."

Almost immediately, Speedlight and Brightspark took it as their cue to start chattering at the shuttle excitedly.

However, while he had moved forward to listen to the sparklings, Skyfire had laid a hand on Wheeljack's shoulder. Bluestreak noticed the movement and his optics were somehow riveted to the scene. Wheeljack, with two chittering, adorable sparklings in his arms, and Skyfire standing so tall and mechly behind him with the hand on the shoulder. It made something snap inside the Datsun, and a sudden inferno of possessiveness washed over him.

Unknowingly, he stepped forward so he was in the middle of the lab space and flared out his doorwings to their fullest extent. Bluestreak's optics narrowed and he hissed, loudly.

It drew the attention of all in the room.

Skyfire frowned at Bluestreak's odd behaviour. The gunner was hissing and shaking his doorwings in an odd movement, glaring at him. He looked down and...

Oh.

He had his hand on Wheeljack's shoulder. And everyone knew by now that Bluestreak and Wheeljack had been in a deeper relationship for the past few months now. Skyfire knew, being from Vos, that his action could be interpreted as a claim.

He took the hand off, holding his hands up in surrender. With quick thinking, the shuttle commed the twins to take their sparklings out of the CME's arms before they got squished in a hug.

The twins did so as Bluestreak's optics now locked onto Wheeljack's confused ones.

Bluestreak fluttered his wings, strutting slowly over to his lover and purring deeply at him. Wheeljack's helm fins flushed peach in an equivalent of a blush as Bluestreak circled around him, hissing and growling at Skyfire one last time, before cuddling up to him, nuzzling into his shoulder and purring, possessive hands wrapping around him.

Wheeljack, although extremely confused, was nonetheless pleased (if not a little embarrassed) by Bluestreak's sudden affections. He would ask later, seeing as Bluestreak seemed only interested in cuddling him for the moment as his grip trasnfered to winding around his waist and pressing the inventor's back to his chassis.

::_What was __**that**__ about_?:: Sideswipe comm'ed Skyfire, Sunstreaker snickering at the Lancia's shy embarrassment.

::_Dominance claim_.::

::_Say what now_?::

::_Have Prowl explain it to you some time. Jazz seemed particularly fond of that Praxian tradition and I'm sure you've seen him use it as well on Prowl_.::

Understanding clicked. ::_Oh... __**OH**__! Well frag! Wish I'd recorded that_.::

::_Red Alert_.:: Skyfire replied evenly. Out loud he said, "Well, I believe it's been a long day and Perceptor wants to know what we have for him, so I think I'll 'clock out' as the humans say."

"Oh! Well, see you then 'Fire." Wheeljack's helm fins blinked merrily. Bluestreak shot him a withering look.

Skyfire chuckled. "See you." And the shuttle ambled out of the labs.

Meanwhile, the sparklings looked really confused at what just happened.

"What Unca Jack just do?" Brightspark asked innocently.

The red and yellow mechs looked at each other and simultaneously agreed. "We'll tell you when you are older. Let's go play with Uncle Jack now, huh?" they chorused.

Bluestreak purred happily from over Wheeljack's shoulder, beckoning for Sideswipe and Sunstreaker to put the sparklings down. He and Wheeljack lowered themselves to the floor, the gunner making sure not to lose contact with the mech he had claimed as the engineer pulled a few toys out of subspace for them all to play with. Brightspark and Speedlight seemed to forget what had occurred and happily went back to their favorite uncles to enjoy the time doing puzzles and making buildings with colorful blocks.

* * *

><p>Wheeljack lay back in his berth after the day of playing with the triplets, Jumpstart adding to the fun when Ratchet came back from the human hospitals. It had been then that Ratchet had taken his bondmates off for a few hours of privacy after being assured that Blue and Jack would look after the triplets.<p>

Needless to say, all three had come back to pick up the developing sparklings with big, telling grins on their faces.

Wheeljack smiled as Bluestreak came into his room, flopping down next to him and chewing on an energon goodie.

"Mmm, these are nice, Jackie. I'm glad you made them," the younger mech complimented.

Wheeljack, who had retracted his mask earlier, grinned widely. "Just don't tell the Hatchet I stole his recipe."

Bluestreak laughed, stuffing the rest of the goodie into his mouth where it melted and ran down his throat in a sweet river, "Mmmm..."

"Hope you didn't eat all of them, you glutton." Wheeljack teased, poking the gunner in his side, a well known tickle spot now.

Letting out a muffled squeak of surprise, the younger mech wriggled as he felt the ticklish spot get prodded. He didn't want to laugh, he still had some of the goodie left to swallow.

"So, did you really do a tradional claim display today?" the tricoloured mech asked curiously. He was rather flattered, thinking back on it, to be claimed like that, to let the world know that he was taken by someone who wanted him and loved him.

Bluestreak purred happily at the reminder of it and replied chipperly, "Yep! You are mine. Just like I'm yours."

The equality of the words, the loved feeling in his spark, and the feelings that had been growing within him steadily as he got to know the gunner on a deeper level made him cuddle up to the Praxian and whisper, "Hey Blue?"

"Yeah Jackie?"

"I love you. And...you've proven that I can trust my spark to you," the engineer continued in a whisper.

Bluestreak purred at the words. It was honestly the first time that Wheeljack had said 'I love you'. He threw an arm around Wheeljack's waist and tugged him closer.

"It means a lot to hear you say that, Jackie." Bluestreak murmured softly, nuzzling the CME's helm fin. "Means even more that you mean it."

"Yeah..." The inventor's fins flashed a soft, dim purple.

"Awww... You're not embarrassed are you?" Bluestreak teased, pressing up firmly against his mech and holding him there. "It's cute."

Wheeljack sighed contentedly, feeling the warmth of the frame and relaxing. He felt his own plating warm in response and he whispered again, "A little but...Primus, I can't believe how much I've come to love you."

Bluestreak shifted at the words, feeling something stir within him and he leaned up to press his lips to the elder mechs.

The engineer willingly deepened the kiss, aware of the changed undercurrent of their moods. He pressed Bluestreak's helm closer, nibbling on a lower lip before sweeping his glossa over the upper and finally sucking the chevroned mech's glossa into his mouth and slowly, sweetly, torturing it with his own glossa.

The doorwinged mech keened slightly.

It was things that Wheeljack did like this that made him get revved up. Unconsciously, he pressed his hips down, grinding.

Wheeljack broke off, looking at Bluestreak intensely. Was he really ready to take this next step?

Bluestreak detected the hesitation and kissed Wheeljack's nose, saying, "Let me take care of you. Please? I've had two very good teachers in how to interface right."

Okay. Wheeljack could _completely_justify the sudden urge to laugh. Really... that was... just...

"What! What'd I say?" Bluestreak fretted when Wheeljack buried his face in the gunner's shoulder and laughed.

Wheeljack tried to say something. But it was extremely difficult through the giggles that were more or less pouring from his mouth. he shook his head as he gasped, trying to stop, but finding it nearly impossible. Bluestreak, having stopped to think about it, was now pouting although his hold on the engineer hadn't relinquished in the slightest.

"Ah! Don't *_giggle_* pout Blue! *_giggle_* It was *_giggle_* cute."

Bluestreak continued to pout. He thought that line had been really romantic. Well, at least the twins had told him so.

"Wait, the twins were your teachers?"

Oops. He must have said that out loud. And if he didn't know better, he'd say that there was a distinctly envious look in the inventor's optics at that. At least it made Wheeljack stop giggling.

"Oh...y-yeah, they were. Umm...it was ages ago. They taught me because they feared that other mechs wouldn't teach me right and wouldn't treat me right. They are my best friends after all. They taught me all of their hints and tricks," Bluestreak explained.

"Hmm..." Wheeljack mumbled. He wasn't sure how he felt about that little piece of information. On the one servo, he wasn't going to blame them or Bluestreak because it was before him. On the other, he was feeling... maybe... just a little jealous.

A quiet chuckle from Bluestreak drew his attention. "Now who's pouting?" The gunner said bumping their forhelms together.

"I am not."

"Sure." Bluestreak agreed easily before pressing a soft kiss to an audial fin. "Please Jackie? Let me make you feel good."

Wheeljack turned the chevroned helm toward him and pressed another deep, glossa-probing kiss to soft, sweet tasting lips. As Bluestreak moaned into it, he pulled back and teased playfully, "Does that give you your answer?"

"Oh pit yes," breathed the gunner, shimmying down slightly to press his mouth straight for his favourite target.

Wheeljack's neck.

"Nnn...Blue," the elder mech moaned softly at the first slide of a warm glossa against a sensitive wire. Bluestreak purred, the sound making the engineer shiver as the vibrations from the purr teased his neck cables and sensitized them. Still, the gunners mouth began to slowly ravish the cords and cables in his neck, kissing along his jaw line for a second before licking in long, flat licks to the sensitive node just under a purple flickering helm fin before sucking on it wetly.

"Oh!" the inventor cried out. Last time his lover had done this for him, just by touching his neck, he had been given an energy overload. As much as the idea sounded nice, he wanted his first overload of the night to be connected with Bluestreak.

Bluestreak seemed to be thinking the same thing, as he diverted his attention back to his lover's lips as the energy built. The Datsun dragged his hands down Wheeljack's sides, digging his digits into seams to stroke and caress gears and cables. Wheeljack gasped into the kiss, tensing for a moment before moaning long and low.

He brought his own servos up, refusing to be idle. He immediately reached for the doorwing hinges, digging his own digits into them, delighting in the surprised squeak he elicited from Bluestreak before dragging his servos up and out along the flat of each wing. Bluestreak trembled.

It felt so good!

The doorwinged mech broke off from the kiss in favour of worshipping the lighting helm fins to the sides of the handsome face. The reaction pulled from the mech under him was another breathy gasp and harder strokes along his doorwings. The appendages pressed hard into those dexterous hands, wanting, needing more touch.

"More..." Bluestreak breathed, nipping the edge of the indicator tenderly.

"It's yours," replied Wheeljack, just as breathless, digging into the seams and circling the nodes teasingly, which earned him another hard grind against his codpiece.

"Jack! Oh Primus I love you, especially when you smile for me, especially when you kiss me and make me feel all tingly inside and it makes my spark want to throb out of my chest. I want to be in you, making you say my name because you love me, want me, need me, trust me. I want to hold on to you forever and not let you go, treat you so nice, spoil you rotten, stuff you so full with energon goodies that you'll taste sweet forever," Bluestreak babbled, optics shuttering tight with pleasure as his doorwings were stimulated and touched so nicely.

Yet at the same time, he knew that he would overload before the show had REALLY gotten good if he allowed Wheeljack to continue. Gently, he removed Wheeljack's servos from his person and pressed them to either side of the inventor's helm.

"Blue, wha-?"

"Trust me?" Bluestreak murmured in Wheeljack's audio.

There wasn't any hesitation in his lover's voice when he answered, "Always."

"Good." Bluestreak pulled back to smile down at the CME. The mech looked enticing with his faceplates flushed and his helm fins glowing dimly with pleasure and trust. "Don't touch, 'kay?"

Wheeljack's full lips turned down in a pout. "But I want to -"

Bluetstreak pressed a digit to the inventor's lips, silencing him. "This time, it's all about you Jackie." He leaned in, to nip at neck cables, loving the resulting shiver. "I'm gonna make you scream my name until it's all you can remember.

Wheeljack did his best to suppress the next shiver when he felt the warm wetness of Bluestreak's glossa travel down, probing. "Th-that a promise?"

An amused and aroused growl met his audios. "Oh, definitely."

Wheeljack smirked.

The mech straddling him was so innocent, and yet conversely so sexy and tempting. He felt worshipped as Bluestreak's mouth explored his chest, kissing over the Autobot symbol, hands rubbing along the glass of his windows and slipping in to tweak and pleasure his sensitive wires and nodes. If it wasn't for the fact that his lover had asked so sweetly for him not to, the engineer was sure that his hands would still be on those doorwings and running up and down the svelte sides.

Dipping lower, Bluestreak inhaled the faint aroma of Wheeljack's body. It was so comforting and arousing at the same time. The metallic smell imbued with the tang of explosive materials had such a unique taste, and Bluestreak couldn't get enough. The gasps and low growns uttered by his lover spurred him on more, and he shimmed down on the berth so his face was level with Wheeljack's pelvic region. Daring, he gave a quick lick to the top seam of the interface panel.

"Blue!" gasped Wheeljack, helm flanges flickering wildly.

The gunner looked up at that moment to see the exquisite expression upon the engineer's faceplates. There was lust, barely restrained, and love. Bluestreak honestly couldn't understand why Sirrus had told Wheeljack he wasn't good looking. In the middle of passion, the elder mech was gorgeous!

Struggling to keep from writhing from the intimate contact, Wheeljack took a moment to look down into Bluestreak's glowing blue optics. They held such a depth of emotion. Desire, certainly. Love, undoubtedly. Concern and such a need to take care of him. There was just so much giving in that gaze it made his spark melt into happy goo.

Stroking over the trembling grey thighs, Bluestreak whispered, "Open for me, Jackie?"

Oh, and how was he supposed to deny a voice like _that_?

With a low groan, Wheeljack activated the codes to retract his interface panel, shuddering as the cool air hit his equipment. The sound from the gunner by his legs was positively predatory. And arousing all on its own.

"Bluuue... Please!"

"Already begging and we haven't even started." Bluestreak sing songed. Oh yeah. Wheeljack could see exactly _who_he'd learned from.

The inventor squirmed as Bluestreak hooked his arms under the CME's thighs and held them open. A long drag across the wet port and closed spike housing sent electric pleasure up his spinal struts. He whined, hands clenching by his helm as he resisted the urge to reach down and caress the red chevron.

Bluestreak sighed in appreciation of the trust displayed and how hot and ready the inventor was for him.

The opening of the valve was glistening with fresh lubricant, and the spike looked just about ready to extend. The intoxicating smell hit him and he inhaled once more, letting it fill him, encourage him. Wheeljack wanted this just as much as he did.

Looking up to make sure that his lover was comfortable with his actions, the gunner kissed around the components, favoring them with the occasional wet lick, while Wheeljack made a little whimper in helpless pleasure. With a crafty grin, Bluestreak then placed his mouth over the housing of the spike and sucked hard, determined to have the inventor in his mouth.

Wheeljack yelped in surprise, unable to cancel the codes to activate his spike. It extended right into Bluestreak's waiting mouth, the entirety of his length being drawn into the warm cavern. Bluestreak's hands were clamped down on his hips to keep him still.

Bluestreak hummed around the hot metal, savoring the flavor of his lover and all the little sounds escaping his vocalizer. Wheeljack was well proportioned, long and deliciously thick. His own spike was pressing against his panel, eagerly jumping to life. He dragged the flat of his glossa along the underside of Wheeljack's spike.

"Oh slag! Dear Primus, Blue," Wheeljack gasped out, feeling as his member was lovingly stroked by that glossa, the head pressing against the neck cables which were squeezing down on him. Slowly drawing off, the gunner took the chance to lap at the head and hum as he did. While the engineer was distracted, Bluestreak removed one hand from his lover's hips and let his thumb play at the silky folds of the entrance to the valve.

Stilling, Wheeljack forced away a memory of Sirrus taunting him while doing that same action. Bluestreak was not to blame. In fact, the younger mech was torturing him with slow, aching pleasure so deliciously that he didn't know whether he wanted to stop it or beg for more.

However, the grey mech felt Wheeljack stiffen, and he pulled his mouth free and babbled anxiously, "Oh Jackie, did I hurt you? I'm so sorry if I did, or if I did something you didn't like! We can do this another time you know, there's no rush and all, but this has been really great so far and-"

"Bluestreak! If you stop I swear I'll jump you!" Wheeljack had to get over this. He was GOING to get over this!

Bluestreak couldn't help the smile that spread across his face although his optics were still worried. He gave one last loving lick to Wheeljack's spike, watching carefully for any distress. Then he slowly trailed his lips along the sensitive metal between the spike housing and valve before the tip of his glossa flicked against an outer node, getting the first sample of the inventor.

"GGghhnn!"

Bluestreak snickered at the sound that came out of Wheeljack's mouth at the action, and he placed his hands back on his lover's hips to keep him still while he softly circled his glossa around the valve lips, letting the receptors on his glossa absorb the taste - slightly sweet, slightly spicy and oddly...explosive. It tingled in his mouth, and with careful movements, wiggled his glossa into the heated, sensor laden valve.

"NNnnn," moaned Wheeljack, his helm flopping back into the berth, one hand blindly reaching for the younger mech and grasping the tip of the chevron, kneading the sensitive metal as a warm appendage tasted the most intimate parts of him.

The gunner moaned in turn as his chevron was stimulated, the vibrations making Wheeljack's valve trembled around his lips and glossa.

"More, more," pleaded Wheeljack, tugging insistently, but gently, on he striking crimson chevron.

With a small nip along the outer rim of the sopping valve, Bluestreak obeyed the insistent, but gentile tugging on his chevron, sliding his body along Wheeljack's. They both groaned at the sensitive contact before Bluestreak pressed a kiss against Wheeljack's lips, slowly deepening it. Wheeljack could taste himself in the recesses of his lover's mouth with each stroke of glossas.

His thighs were pushed apart by Bluestreak's hips, the heated plating scraping along the stimulated insides of his thighs. "Bluuue!"

"Calling my name and I'm not even in you," teased the gunner, rubbing his hips sensually against his lovers with a smile, their erect spikes creating a delightful friction in between their bodies.

"Little tease," bantered the engineer breathlessly back. "Shoulda expected it with the teachers you had."

It made Bluestreak laugh and capture Wheeljack's lips with his own again, hands cupping his shoulders to bring them in closer contact, grey thighs parted enticingly for him. Shifting his hips, he nudged the tip of his spike ever so slightly against the now leaking and aroused entrance.

"Ready Jackie?"

"As I'll ever be. I want you...I need you to love me," Wheeljack whispered, nuzzling into the younger mech's neck and letting himself relax under the lithe frame above him.

"You have my love forever."

Watching the engineer's face as it contorted in pleasure, Bluestreak carefully inched his spike into the hot grip, watching as Wheeljack panted as he slid all the way in and their pelvic area's were pulled flush to each others.

Bluestreak hissed in pleasure, forcing himself to hold still, allowing the elder mech to adjust around him. The gunner was by no means small. He was rather proud of his size.

And Wheeljack was appreciative of it, his valve stretched wide and contracting all in the same motion. He whined. "Please Blue! Move!"

"Beautiful." The gunner breathed, heeding his lover's plea and pulling out slowly. Torturously so. He pulled until only the flared tip of his spike was left inside and he waited, letting the pressure build and enjoying the slim frame writhe beneath his.

When the inventor whined again, Bluestreak let go, his hips slamming forward, seating his spike completely inside his lover in one thrust. Wheeljack's spinal strut arched off the berth as he cried out in euphoria, his hands clutching at his lover's frame. "Ahhh!"

The younger mech took a moment just to enjoy the expression brought to his lover's face.

It was caused by him, and the thought made him purr, bringing his hips back and sliding in slowly again in direct contrast to the first thrust.

Wheeljack couldn't have held in his sounds even if he tried. He had not taken a lover for so long, his valve being stretched and filled so wondrously after countless years of being barren of love and contact. So he moaned and gasped, bringing their bodies close together and moving fluidly with the movements of Bluestreak, rolling his hips up into each thrust. Bluestreak was going at such a nice, firm pace now that he had gotten started, his hands roaming over his frame to tantalize and tease him closer to overload.

Bluestreak groaned and purred, feeling the tight clamp of hot walls around his length, rubbing so nicely against the nodes on his spike.

"Jack, I love you so much," purred the gunner in sweet, sweet ecstasy as he thrust in again.

"I know, I...oh!...love you too," Wheeljack replied, barely coherent as waves of pleasure flowed through him from his core.

Bluestreak groaned, feeling Wheeljack's valve clamp tight and ripple, indicating that the inventor was on the verge of overload. He wrapped his arms around Wheeljack's waist, lifting him from the berth and changing the angle for his next thrust.

Wheeljack's world exploded into light in a very different kind of explosion than what he was used to. Unable to hang on, Wheeljack clutched tightly to Bluestreak's frame.

_**"BLUESTREAK!"**_

Bluestreak's optics went wide...he had teased Wheeljack about calling his name, but the reality was just _so_much better. The engineer's mouth was open, optics shuttered tight and his helm flanges shining in a rainbow of light, hands gripping onto Bluestreak's frame and legs flying up to wind around his waist to tighten the squeeze of the valve as he overloaded hard.

The warmth of that tight, slick channel was overwhelming for Bluestreak, and with another quick jerk into it, he overloaded as the walls of the valve rippled and clenched in random, explosive movements. The tip of his spike erupted with his transfluid, pumping deep inside Wheeljack with one final push.

"Wheeljack! Oh yes!" he cried out as the last waves raked over him.

They laid there, still, for a few moments, catching their breath after their frenzied finish to their lovemaking, wondrous about the experience and sated.

"Wow...just...wow," Bluestreak murmured, kissing a helm fin.

"You can say that again. It was...explosive," Wheeljack smiled, kissing his lover in gratitude...it was so nice to be treasured like this.

"Mmmm..." Bluestreak hummed, his grip re-tightening around Wheeljack before he twisted so that they were both resting comfortably on their sides, snuggled next to each other.

"Cuddler aren't you?" Wheeljack teased tiredly, his digits gliding lightly across the Autobot insignia on his lover's plating.

"Could say the same about you." The Datsun whispered to his Lancia, snuggling even more against the slightly smaller mech.

There was a few contented moments of silence in which they lay together, listening to their armor pinging as it cooled, and their intakes slow as their engines returned to normal.

Eventually Bluestreak felt the need to break the silence. "Hey, Jackie?"

"Hmmm...?"

"You know that I'll always love you, right?"

He felt a soft kiss pressed to his shoulder. "Bluestreak, you don't have to prove anything to me." He chuckled, reaching up to kiss his lover's uncertain lips. "but I will say it's nice to hear it. I love you too, Blue."

* * *

><p>As Bluestreak played with the triplets on the floor the next day, Wheeljack found himself deep in thought. Last night had been one of the most beautiful nights of intimacy he had ever had, if not the best. It would have been cheesy to say it was perfection, but it was. It seemed like it had come straight right out of some fairytale romance novel.<p>

And yet, he couldn't care. He was floating. He was the luckiest mech in the world.

"You know that goofy grin makes you look like a bigger idiot than you are?" Wheeljack turned his helm to look at his best friend. Ratchet was smirking, a look that _clearly_ said, '_I know what happened and I told you so_!'

"Does it look like I care?" The CME purposefully made his grin bigger.

"No. It looks like you just got laid." Ratchet snorted, leaning against the counter in the medbay. "'Bout damn time, too!"

The very blunt, very serious, very _Ratchet_answer had the inventor guffawing loudly which drew the attention of all three triplets and Bluestreak. All of whom looked very curious.

"What're we laughing about?" An intrigued Sideswipe asked, walking through the medbay doors. He stopped, quite honestly just _staring_at the inventor and his Bondmate's best friend. Wheeljack caught him looking and gave him a curious look. "Uh... hi, Jack." Because that sounded absolutely brilliant. It wasn't everyday that somebot got to see the mysterious faceplates of the Chief Mechanical Engineer.

"Told you he wasn't disfigured." Sideswipe jumped at the sound of his brother's voice.

Wheeljack froze momentarily, but saw Bluestreak looking at him with encouragement and love in his optics.

'Aw, to heck with it,' Wheeljack thought, and then said, "Hey Sunny, thanks for the compliment. Good to know one twin has the vote of confidence in me."

Sunstreaker waved it off, and replied straightforwardly, "Actually, now I've seen your face, I want to paint a portrait of you."

"Portrait...of me?" Wheeljack exclaimed.

Bluestreak laughed at the look on his lover's face. The too happy grin proudly displayed was completely disrupting anything that was contrary to it that Wheeljack said. The relaxed pose, the easy banter - the gunner was so glad that Wheeljack had the courage to trust others with how he looked.

"Yeah, you. You see any other crazy inventors in this medbay?" the golden mech drawled.

"Nope! But make sure you let everyone know that he's _my_inventor," Bluestreak chimed in, moving so he was leaning against the elder mech's side.

Ratchet rolled his optics as he bent down to stroke Speedlight over his little sensory horns and said, "You guys are chocking me with how sweet and cute you are."

An evil grin lit Wheeljack's faceplates, something completely new to all who saw it, aside from Ratchet who was looking at him with a glare that literally said _'Don't you __**dare**_!'

"Oh, but Ratchet!" Wheeljack snickered. "If I remember correctly, you were always so sweet yourself!"

"Ratchet? Sweet?" Sideswipe with mock surprise.

"As I remember it, energon goodies sent to doorsteps, endless whisperings of sweet nothings, poems so thickly sweet they'd make you gag..."

Years of practice and habit was what enabled Wheeljack to dodge the wrench to the faceplates. "You slagger! When I get my hands on you...!"

Wheeljack leaped from the stool he'd been sitting on, cackling and pulling the startled Bluestreak with him. "Run Blue!"

Speedlight and Brightspark immediately took off after their carrier and Uncles, squealing in delight with all eagerness to join the new game, while Jumpstart stood beside Sunstreaker, content just clinging to his father's leg.

Sideswipe looked at his brother pathetically. "Hey sunny..."

"What?"

"How come _we_ never got energon goodies?"

* * *

><p><strong>Is it wrong for me to love this ending? No? Okay. Good.<strong>

**Read and Review! This was the smut you were all fricking waiting for people!**


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